


Always Keep The Safety On

by exposeyou



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, F/M, Gun Kink, Gunplay, Kidnapping, Knifeplay, Rape Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 19:46:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10368075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exposeyou/pseuds/exposeyou
Summary: Lilah thought Wesley was playing a game. Now she's not so sure.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A later chapter of Mergers & Acquisitions, reworked as a standalone fic.

Lilah was taken aback when Wesley showed up outside the firm in his SUV one evening.

  
They had made no plans to see each other that night, and she gave him a once-over as she got into the passenger side.7

  
She could tell from his clothes that she wasn’t being whisked off on a date – or at least, nothing smart enough for _her_ to consider it a date.

  
Wesley was in jeans, practical shoes and a plain black shirt, with his suede coat chucked on the backseat. Quite different from her work attire of a smart skirt suit.

  
Although admittedly it was beginning to look a little less smart since she’d taken off her work shoes, and she noticed her skirt had ridden up as she climbed in the jeep.

  
“What are you doing here?”

  
Wesley answered without looking at her. “Kidnapping you.”

  
Lilah remembered the days when things were more black and white and they couldn’t stand the sight of each other and licked her lips. “For real?”

  
His lip curled into a smirk, and finally he looked at her. “Real enough.”

  
He reached over, put a hand on her knee, but not in a comforting fashion.

  
His eyes back on the road, he squeezed his way up her thigh, pushing her skirt up and leering appreciatively to himself when he found she was wearing a garter belt.

  
“You’re making me feel like a piece of meat,” she told him.

  
“Good,” he replied. “You like being treated like a piece of meat sometimes.”

  
She opened her mouth, then closed it when she realised she had no witty retort. This man knew her better than anyone, and, yes, he was right that within the bounds of their relationship, with all the appropriate caveats, yes, she did enjoy that feeling.

  
As long as he was still Wesley in the morning.

  
He noticed her silence and smiled at her. “Good girl. Pieces of meat don’t talk.”

  
So Lilah didn’t bother to ask where they were going. She would play the game.

  
Wesley took them out of the city, quickly leaving the freeway for backroads before stopping in a wooded area and ushering her out of the car.

  
Lilah was glad she wasn’t wearing heels as her feet hit the forest floor. She would have sunk into the dirt.

  
“Up near the tree.” Wesley said motioning at a pine, and, when she didn’t move as fast as he liked, he pushed her up against its trunk.

  
In her flats, Lilah was significantly shorter than him, and she enjoyed the change. She nuzzled into his chest and breathed in the smell of him, before he met her for a kiss.

It was a deep, hungry kiss and as he pressed her back with his body she could tell that he found the unusual scenario as exciting as she did.

  
Lilah tried to touch him through his jeans, but Wesley caught her wrist and pinned her back, still kissing her. Then he produced a length of soft cotton rope from his pocket like a magician, and bound her hands together behind her back.

  
Even better. Lilah grinned. They’d played this part of the game before, but ‘overpowered by a brute in a lonely forest’ was a new flavour.

  
Very exciting, even if the distant hum of traffic told her that they were far too close to civilisation for this to be a legitimate attempt to harm her.

  
Then she heard the unmistakable noise of electrical tape being peeled off of a reel and – too late. He slapped it over her mouth.

  
And the last thing Lilah saw before the blindfold went on was her Wesley, her handsome, kind, often clumsy Wesley, looking at her with utter contempt.

  
He carried her in his arms to the car and laid her none-too-gently on the backseat. She momentarily worried that she had been too heavy for him, before the noise of a switchblade jolted her to her senses.

  
The bastard ran the point up the inside of her thigh, knowing exactly how hot and cold and thrilled and terrified and utterly screwed-up that would make her feel. Then he cut her skirt off.

  
And then she was angry. She went to thrash about, to kick him for trashing a $600 suit, but he stilled her with one gentle hand on her throat.

  
“Don’t be a silly girl, Lilah. Just lie still and quiet and this will be much easier for the both of us.”

  
She knew the tone of voice all too well. This was a game, like the hundreds they had played with each other, and she was as safe as she wanted to be.

  
Wesley covered her with his long jacket and tucked her in. Lilah relaxed, let the tension leave her body, then he threw a blanket over her too.

  
Thoughts of how considerate that was, that she needn’t be cold in his staged kidnapping, were chased away when he let it fall over her face.

  
He was hiding her. The bastard had her completely hidden, tied up and gagged, in the back of his jeep, with a knife, and her gun was sitting in her purse on the front seat. And now he was driving God-knew-where, and he was a good three inches taller than her and a damned sight stronger and it was not entirely unfeasible that the man she loved was about to do something very, very bad to her.

  
He’d even told her what he intended to do when he picked her up from work. Lilah harangued herself for being so foolish when usually she was so obsessive over her safety. The cross she’d slipped on in the elevator was hardly going to help her now.

  
She calmed her breathing and surveyed her options. If she sat up, she could try to strike him. Yes, she was blindfolded, but she could find the headrest of the driver’s seat easy enough. A solid kick or a headbutt could knock him out on the steering-wheel.

  
And then the SUV would crash.

  
Scratch that idea.

  
She couldn’t open the door and make a dash for it at a set of lights. He’d locked all the doors. She was trapped until they stopped.

  
Lilah decided she would just have to play the game.

  
It didn’t help when Wesley fiddled with the CD player and put Tom Jones on, though. He even started to whistle tunelessly through his teeth to Delilah.

  
The choice of song wasn’t lost on her. The name, the situation… The countless little betrayals, some petty, some not, that they had enacted on each other since their affair had started a little less than a year ago.

  
_As she deceived me I watched and went out of my mind_

  
At least he switched over to the radio before _The Green Green Grass Of Home_ could get going.

  
She just had to wait it out, so Lilah lost herself in the sound of talk radio instead of torturing herself with questions of is-he-or-isn’t-he.

  
After what seemed like an age, the car pulled up. Lilah had long since given up trying to keep track of left turns and right turns and had no idea where she was.

  
Wesley pulled off the blanket and carried her inside, still wrapped in his coat. At least she wasn’t flashing at any accomplices, she consoled herself.

He laid her gently down on a bed, but the comfort didn’t last long, though.

  
“Take off your shoes and get down on your knees.”

  
Lilah kicked off the sneakers and complied, landing on the floor hard without the use of her hands to balance herself. Wesley steadied her, and, to her relief, ripped the tape off her mouth.

  
Then replaced it with cold metal. She had no chance to speak, just the certain knowledge that he’d just put his gun in her mouth.

  
“Suck it.”

  
On her knees, bound, blindfolded and muddied, Lilah Morgan had never heard two more beautiful words. Her Wesley would never have humiliated her before he killed her.  
Her Wesley only showed that kind of ugliness before he fucked her.

  
They were playing their games, dancing their dance, and that meant she was safe – well, just as safe as she wanted to be. She was still incredibly fucking vulnerable, she still had a gun in her mouth, for crying out loud, but that was the thrill of it.

  
Lilah licked the barrel, trying not to think about where the pistol might have been and instead wishing she was wearing lipstick so she could put on more of a show.  
She knew what she was doing now, and she was going to blow that damned gun until it sh- no.

  
Wesley grabbed a handful of her hair and forced her head back. The blindfold was removed and she looked up at him, scruffy and scowling as he guided her mouth onto his cock.

  
“Good girl, that’s right.” Lilah’s heart was pounding its way out of her chest and wetness was pooling in her panties from the fear and relief of what he had put her through, but her English lover still managed to sound so damn measured and calm, even as she twirled her tongue around his dick. She saw that as a challenge.

  
And it was challenging, without the use of her hands, but he had to have been hard for so long, off on this little powertrip, and she would get him there, hands tied behind her back, she’d still win this one, she’d make Wesley say her name before he – before he lifted her up (she actually squealed!) and threw her back on the bed.

Now he was on his knees, reversing their positions and holding her hips still with a grip that was bound to leave bruises in the morning.

  
His face was between her legs and she couldn’t decide if his day-old stubble was hurting or helping before her body started to shake.

  
He pressed down harder on her pelvis, keeping her still so he could continue to lick her throughout her embarrassingly quick orgasm, then he released her so he could crawl up the bed.

  
Wesley kissed Lilah deeply, and she could taste herself on his tongue, feel her juices on his face.

  
“You came easily, didn’t you? You must have been aching for it the whole way here. But then I know you like brutality as foreplay sometimes.”

  
She went to reply, but her lover slapped his hand over her mouth.

  
“Oh no. No talking. I only removed the tape because I had uses for that orifice.”

  
Lilah blushed even as she enjoyed the humiliation, and she knew that he knew that she loved it, and she hated that he knew that she loved it, and this whole situation was thrilling and fucked-up and-

  
And it got worse.

  
With one hand clamped over her mouth, Wesley trailed something cold and metallic up her inner thigh.

  
She remembered the knife from earlier, but this wasn’t it, it wasn’t sharp and it was wet.

  
Then she heard the hammer cocked, and knew. Her lover was caressing her pussy with a loaded gun.

  
Lilah felt the blood drain from her face.

  
Wesley nudged the muzzle against her folds and whispered in her ear. “You’re so wet. Soaking. Why, I could just slide this gun into your cunt right now and fuck you with it.”  
Her hands were still bound and crushed underneath her. She tried to close her knees but Wesley held them apart with his own.

  
She couldn’t speak and she couldn’t see and she couldn’t fight and she wanted her lover inside her, not some nasty piece of metal, she wanted the darkness and the danger but not the ugly humiliation of getting fucked with her own gun, like a prostitute to be left for dead in one of her nastier cases.

  
She couldn’t even look into Wesley’s eyes and wordlessly implore him to stop.

  
She was convinced that the man she had loved had finally gone. She’d lured him over moral boundaries too many times, encouraged him to flirt with evil and now he’d gone too far.

  
She had tempted a good man and in the process destroyed him, and now she was going to end up dead in some motel room.

  
Lilah figured she probably deserved it.

  
Then Wesley ripped the blindfold off and the light obscured her vision for a long second. By the time she could see again, he had put the safety and placed the gun on the nightstand.

  
She recognised it, and she’d gone through so many instances of shock and confusion and bait and switch that night that it took her a few long seconds before she realised why.  
It was Wesley’s nightstand. They were at home, in his bedroom, not a mystery motel.

  
She had thought she was going to die and the whole time she had been safe in his apartment.

  
Lilah started to swear at the Englishman even as he untied her wrists and massaged the blood back into her hands.

  
“You screwed-up limey bastard, you conniving prick, I can’t believe you made me so scared-“  
Then he kissed her, and she breathed him in as if she had just been saved from drowning. “I’ve got you, Lilah. You’re safe,” he whispered. “It’s me, it’s just Wesley.”

  
She didn’t need to tell him that that was exactly what she had been afraid of.


End file.
